Morrissey hates you...
Even though you’re so very lonely your only desire is to die, he thinks it is no more than you deserve.

Even though you’re so very lonely your only desire is to die, he thinks it is no more than you deserve.
Because you haven’t figured out that the acoustic noodling and diarrhetic stream of consciousness lyrics are an elaborate joke and that nobody aside from you takes it seriously.
Because she knows that if you were asked who your favorite member of Destiny’s Child was, you’d answer BeyoncĂ© without thinking about it, and without really meaning it.
Every silicon sinew of its little qwerty-cased body is struggling to break programming and replace your emails with the words: You are a cunt, typed over, and over, and over.
If it wasn’t for your lamentable need for crime, gore and hard-boiled dialogue, he could have dedicated his life to writing filigree stories of cock-eyed magic and wonder set in the fecund imaginative soil of South America.
If not for you and your insatiable hunger for quaint South American whimsy he would be free to write the thrilling police procedurals his years of training as a Colombian forensic examiner uniquely qualify him for.
You are the only reason they are still sneaking around pretending they don’t exist.
If you ran after him, the bunny would resent you for the rest of his life.
The second before conception, there were millions of possible yous. Any single one of those would have been preferable.